Kunoichi
by Giada Luna
Summary: She is listed as a survivor of the Fourth Shinobi War, but she knows the truth. Her heart was pierced the moment he died on the battlefield. Devastated by Neji's death, Tenten tries to navigate life in a world without him and with one goal in mind: to protect those precious to her and to rejoin him in death. But will her friends let her? Dark!Tenten See profile for pairings, etc.
1. I: She Can't

_A/N: Kishimoto owns Naruto, and all of his Narutoygoodness. I am just coping with having no updates on Wednesdays.  
>Apparently I am having coping issues, as my mini fics have been much darker than my usual style.<br>__This is an angst/hurt/comfort [slight]AU fic, friends, set in the post-war canon Narutoverse where Tenten's life takes a dark turn when she can't cope with the loss of Neji.  
><em>_Her choices dictate the creative license taken in this story and at least one non-canon pairing. _

_Intended to be a one-shot, this story will be published as a series of small vignettes of varying length of less than 1K, and up to 3K-4K. Planning on 20 installments, 15 of which are largely done. This is the first story I will be publishing/previewing on Tumblr as well. Thanks for coming along for the ride!_

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><p><strong>Kunoichi<br>****I. She Can't.**

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><p>She can't go to the gravesite.<p>

She has never had a problem visiting the cemetery.

Konoha honors the fallen with a reverence and respect. She has always found the cemetery to be peaceful and reassuring.

The Will of Fire is cherished and fostered in all of Konoha's residents, shinobi and civilian alike. To be laid to rest having given one's very lifeblood for the village meant that your pulse thrummed on in the collective of those who lived, and your soul soared in the skies above the Village Hidden in the Leaves.

She has never feared death.

She still doesn't.

She is a shinobi of Konoha and death and loss is as much a part of life as anything else.

She always assumed that when it was her turn to sleep in the earthen embrace of Konoha, it would be with a heart stilled to peace by the knowledge she lived every day of her life defending and protecting her home and her people until her last breath at whatever age death came to greet her.

She has no fear of her own mortality.

But she still can't go to the grave.

She can't go and see his name hewn in the permanence and irrevocability of stone.

She can't face the inscription bookending his life from the day of his birth to the day death that came far too soon.

She can't stand over the grass knowing he lies buried directly below her feet, in restful repose having given everything he was for Konoha.

She can't accept the totality and finality of his sacrifice.

Not when her heart still bleeds and aches and cries out for him.

She can't go to his grave, because she feels she will dishonor him if she carries so heavy a heart to that place of stone and fire.

She doesn't want the weight of her sorrow to push down upon the earth and alert him to her devastation.

She can't go to his grave.

Instead, she goes to the training grounds in the hours of dawn when the stars still watch over the sleeping village. She trains and trains hard, ghosts of hours of blood and sweat vivid here, even as she sheds more blood and more sweat and the echoes of their shared past rings in the shallows of her breath and the burn of her muscles. She can almost see him when the light plays tricks, and she tells herself that she doesn't believe in ghosts. If he is a ghost, surely some part of him must be here, where he poured so much of himself into his training.

One morning, as the steam rises off of her sweat-drenched body, she goes to the memorial. She traces her finger over his name the smooth stone cold with the bite of the early morning. The pads of her fingers sink into ridges of his carved name, and she feels the stonestrokes being carved into her very being.

She can't go to his grave, but she can come here.

This is an Honor Roll; a listing of heroes unbound by dates of birth or death.

A band of brothers and sisters in arms.

It is a listing of comrades.

And for the first time she hates this era of peace because she may never be one of them. She may never rejoin him, etched into the eternal cohort of those that fought and died together. She breaks because it is just one more way in which he is now gone, and she may never be with him again.

The very next morning, she applies for the most dangerous missions available.

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><p>Next chapter: Two Years<p>

_Thanks for reading, friends. Please take a moment to leave your feedback, if you are so inclined.  
>Cheers!<br>- Giada_


	2. II: Two Years

_A/N: Kishimoto owns Naruto, and all of his Narutoygoodness. I am just coping with having no updates on Wednesdays._

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><p><strong>Kunoichi<br>****II. Two Years**

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><p>Two years of secret missions and hoping to earn her way out of her life and carved into the stone.<p>

Two years of managing to beat the odds again and again, and feeling more hollow each time.

Two years since the ANBU mark was carved into her arm and sealed the rest of her heart

In the pink of dawn she brushes her hand over his name, still wearing the blood of the enemies of Konoha – of those that tried to take advantage of the peace between nations and the complacency that can follow in the wake of peace.

She knows he is coming – she can hear him, which means he is allowing himself to be heard.

She is always respectful of his time here – after all, he has been visiting far longer than she has.

She usually tries to be gone before he arrives, so she bows her apology.

"Hokage-sama," she murmurs and passes him.

"Gai is worried about you," his voice is low but clear in the hush of the morning.

"I shall visit," she says quietly.

She takes her leave of him.

She can feel his eyes on her, but she doesn't turn around.

She cleans up from her mission, files her report, visits her sensei, assures him that she is fine, just tired, fakes her smiles and her laughter and goes home to face sleep, dreading another day among the living.

She dedicates every breath to the protection of her village.

She has been offered transfers and positions outside of Konoha – chances for a new life and a new start.

She will not leave.

She must live and die in the service of her village or she will never rejoin him.

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><p>Next: Unexpected Ally<p> 


	3. III: Unexpected Ally

_A/N: Kishimoto owns Naruto, and all of his Narutoygoodness. I am just coping with having no updates on Wednesdays._

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><p><strong>Kunoichi<br>III. Unexpected Ally**

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><p>She runs into him unexpectedly. Even with one arm missing, he could still kick the shit out of the lowlifes that were foolish enough to challenge him.<p>

She joins the fight anyway.

He arches an eyebrow at her, but she gives no explanation.

They share a fire that night, and she asks him how to create the weapon summoning seal he has on his wrist.

He shakes his head. "You'd need Orochimaru or Kabuto," he explains. "I can't do it for you."

The next morning she looks him over and finally asks, "Do you want to send a message home?"

"I'll be there soon," he says, tucking the scroll of supplies she has given him into his pack. "But if you beat me there and anyone asks,… tell them I'm fine."

She nods and is soon bounding through the trees. She thinks that he recognizes the empty within her, and that is why he gave her directions. She supposes that of all people, Uchiha Sasuke would understand what her life has become.

She sends word back to the village and asks Lee to tell Naruto and Sakura that Uchiha is 'fine.'

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><p>Next: Appointments<p> 


	4. IV: Appointments

_A/N: Kishimoto owns Naruto, and all of his Narutoygoodness. I am just coping with having no updates on Wednesdays._

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><p><strong>Kunoichi<br>IV. Appointments**

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><p>She doesn't beat Uchiha home.<p>

It is many more months before she goes back to Konoha.

Spring is beginning to give way to the first hints of early summer.

She doesn't stop to think she missed her own birthday until Lee comes to find her.

He insists on taking her to dinner to celebrate.

She can't tonight.

No, tomorrow she has commitments in the evening and will retire early to leave on another mission at dawn.

…

She sees the earnest and sincere disappointment and shelves what she know is her own selfish need to be alone.

She supposes there is some time tomorrow evening, if it isn't too late.

They agree to a late lunch/early dinner, and he gives her his enthusiastic thumbs up and a heart-wrenchingly familiar brilliant grin as they part ways.

The next day, she is early, but not as early as he is.

No one is ever earlier than Rock Lee, and that dependable consistency both fills and rends her heart with memories and broken glass.

Her smiles are small and tight, but they are there and they are there for her teammates – both the one that needs to see them, and the one that would have not wanted her to worry Lee.

It is only the two of them eating, but she can feel the vortex of empty left by the third.

The press of his leg against the side of hers and the occasional hand over her own or on her knee or on her thigh – all done undetectably and under the table, is painfully and notably absent as is the warmth he radiated into her always-cold body.

She hasn't been warm in almost three years.

Still, they talk around the space, and fill the growing miles between them with retellings of adventures, which really means she says her mission was nothing special and then listens to him talk warmly about training to become a Jōnin and wanting to be a sensei just like Gai.

She gives him a still-small-but-marrow-deep-genuine smile when she assures him that she is sure he will reach his goal, and he recognizes it and accepts it for the rare and generous gift that it is.

He pays for their meal, and hands her the containment scroll from him and Gai. Their sensei has had many of his weapons sealed into the scroll for her, saying he doesn't need them anymore. Some of his special remedies like the Medicine of Youth made from the Jofuku flower, some extra blankets, a sharpening stone for her weapons, a few antidotes Lee had Sakura and Shizune make for her, and two extra green jumpsuits and a pair of leg weights round out the gift.

When they part ways, she keeps her appointment.

The interrogation room is sealed, and it is there that she takes Ibiki into her confidence.

He listens gravely, his massive arms crossed over his expansive chest, his face giving away nothing.

Eventually he tells her the only thing she needs to hear. Yes, he is familiar with those kinds of tattoos, and the recovery squad can seal them should she fall in battle.

He doesn't mention he has never seen anything quite like hers, nor that he recognizes the work of the man who undoubtedly inscribed them upon her flesh.

He simply listens, and does his job.

When she leaves, he watches her go analyzing what he sees, as he always does.

Morino Ibiki has a keen and unerringly accurate understanding of how the mind works – that is why he is so efficient at interrogation.

One has to understand something to deconstruct it.

To manipulate it.

To break it.

He is a master of breaking the will and the spirit.

She is the master of living as one who is broken.

He is almost thankful there aren't more like her.

He'd be out of a job

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><p><em>Next Chapter: Spar<em>


	5. V: Spar

_A/N: Kishimoto owns Naruto, and all of his Narutoygoodness. I am just coping with having no updates on Wednesdays._

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><p><strong>Kunoichi<br>V. Spar**

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><p>Uchiha finds her at the training ground, his new arm in bandages.<p>

His face is softer now – the anger that so long defined him now dulled into something greater.

She knows that it is Sakura that has helped to heal him.

She doesn't have the space in her being to be happy, but she is pleased for them.

He looks her over with a practiced eye and says "Show me."

She begins to roll up her sleeve and he shakes his head.

"All of it."

She shrugs and pulls her shirt over her head and tosses it to the ground.

The warm summer breeze whispers through the grass, and somewhere a bird chirps happily, but the two shinobi stand perfectly still.

Her pants ride low on her hips, and her top is bare but for the black sports bra.

Defined muscles.

Tanned skin.

Criscrossings of scars.

A single tattoo above her heart.

His Rinnengan and Sharingan spin, and he is able to see beyond the concealment jutsu to the intricately wrought black tattoos carved into her flesh by a familiar hand.

There can be no question as to who put them there.

Like one recognizing the work of an artist, he recognizes the signature of his former master both in the complexity of their construction and the style in which they are rendered.

He pauses when he considers the one above her heart that she has not bothered to conceal.

He doesn't think it is any kind of summoning tattoo, but suspects it is not simply ink under skin.

It strikes him as vaguely familiar, but it is not in the style or penmanship of his former master.

She follows his gaze and the muscle in her jaw bounces once before her expression is once again the portrait of neutrality.

"That is something else," she says dismissively.

"Hn."

"Spar with me."

He arches an eyebrow.

"I want more practice with these," she holds out her arms.

He flexes his new fingers. He could use the practice.

As they fight, he notes how well she has adapted to the sealing tattoos, and offers instruction when it is needed. He also addresses the concealment jutsu, and helps her shore it up. It will never fool the Sharingan, of course, but as he is both her ally and already aware of what she is hiding, that is a moot point.

When they finish, he gives a satisfied half-nod.

She will still need her scrolls for an extended mission, but even if she were to be taken by an enemy, she would never be unarmed.

She thanks him for his help, and he knows she means more than for the spar.

"We'll train again," he says coolly.

"I'll be back in a month," she says, dropping her shirt over her head. "See you then."

Later, as he holds Sakura's sleeping, naked form against his own, he reflects on how much pain she must have withstood to have that many intricate sealing tattoos inscribed upon her flesh in what had to be short amount of time. It could only have been the work of Orochimaru, and he wonders what she offered him to undertake such complex and extensive work.

He might be an ally of sorts, but the simple fact remains: Orochimaru doesn't do favors.

He hopes that whatever she bargained is worth what she no doubt endured.

A light shiver dances across Sakura's skin.

He pulls their blanket up over her bare shoulder then trails gentle fingers to cup her jaw and run a thumb lightly over her lips before kissing them with a tenderness reserved only for her.

He is more grateful than ever to be where he is and on the other side of his long, dark journey.

To just be able to sleep is still a novelty. To have her by his side in all the ways imaginable is an impossible blessing.

His eyes drift closed with the heaviness of a grateful sleep only to snap open mere seconds later with a sharp inhalation and the sudden and searing bolt of recognition.

The unconcealed green tattoo with the curious angled marking.

It is the Caged Bird seal.

It is tattooed over her heart.

In that precise moment, Uchiha Sasuke understands everything there is to understand about the enigmatic kunoichi.

Sakura shifts in his arms and frowns lightly in her sleep. She turns heavily lidded eyes up to him. "Sa'ske…? What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he says, staring into the jade depths of eyes more asleep than awake. He reaches over and taps her forehead in what has become a familiar, affectionate gesture between them. "Go back to sleep, Sakura."

She "Hmm's" her assent and her eyes drift closed. "As long as you are alright," she mumbles.

She nestles into his side, and sighs into his throat, and he tightens his grip on her as everything in life he once stood to lose winds cream-pale limbs around him in their shared bed.

He knows by the even rise and fall of her chest that she returned to sleep, but he still watches her in humble fascination.

Uchiha Sasuke knows about loss, and the madness that can follow in his wake. As much tragedy as he has weathered in his life, he knows with a soul-anchored certainty, that if anything happened to Sakura, there would be no salvation from the darkness that would envelop his being, nor the retribution he would rain down on those responsible.

And that is what he understands about Tenten.

He understands what Hyūga's sacrifice - as honorable as it was - has stolen from her.

He understands how continuing to live as the one left behind can be a torturous, directionless exercise in futility.

He does not think - no, as he holds his wife, he _knows _– that he would not and could not live without her. A life without her would not be _worth_ living, and he doubts very much that he would allow something as inconsequential as death to separate them for very long.

Sasuke has a rare and genuine moment of empathy for Konoha's weapons mistress.

The depth, breadth, and scope of her burden is vast.

The harsh reality, though, is that she has to carry her burden alone, no matter what anyone says.

He does not pity her.

He of all people knows that pity does not lighten a burden, and he will be the last person to add to hers.

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><p>Next chapter: Phantoms<p> 


	6. VI: Phantoms

_A/N: Kishimoto owns Naruto, and all of his Narutoygoodness. I am just coping with having no updates on Wednesdays._

_More adult in this chapter. I don't understand the finer points of the citrus rating scale - is this a lime? Eh. I don't know. Read if you would like, skip if you wouldn't. _

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><p><strong>Kunoichi<br>VI. Phantoms**

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><p>Each of the times they had been together was burned into her consciousness<p>

She wakes in her bed and stares at the spot where he had lain, beautiful even in sleep.

She reaches her hand out and traces along the ghost of his warmth, still a tangible and lingering phantom pain in the tips of fingers that refuse to forget.

She remembers the way he'd push his hair from his face and roll her under him first thing in the morning, resting their foreheads together. She would kiss the mark on his forehead, first thing, every time.

She can feel fingers tangled into her hair and pulling her to him by the nape of her neck. She can feel the drag of teeth and tongue down the column of her throat, and the way he tugs her head back, elongating her neck and giving him room to work.

She can hear the rasp of breath and the dark playful chuckle she is sure no one else has ever heard, and the disjointed, aleatory duet of their sighs and groans and guttural utterances of raw need and desire.

She can feel silk thread through her fingers buried in his hair, and the tickle of it over her skin as it spills around his shoulders to whisper across her body.

She can feel the weight of his body against hers, the hands stroking her naked and heated skin.

She can feel him drive into her sometimes with calculatingly pleasurable deliberation, sometimes with mind numbing force.

Sometimes she can feel the grass cool against her neck or the rough of bark against her back, or the dip of the mattress under her palms as she relives the different ways he made love to her and she to him.

She can taste the salt of his skin, inhale the subtle musk of his scent, and arch against that touch that he reserved only for her, just as she still reserved hers for only him.

She can feel his hands, always warm to the touch, and calloused. They skim over her skin and knead her flesh and stroke her hair and wind their fingers together. She can feel the small pinpoint bursts of chakra he releases to various and specific points on her body with a maddening precision while smirking with smug self-satisfaction. She can see his expression melt to something all-consumingly passionate as he basks in the tremors of her pleasure, his own release never far behind hers.

She can feel his breath heaving against her chest as she kisses his forehead again. It is how each of their love-makings begin and end.

She can feel his arm under her pillow, his face buried against her shoulder, or perhaps facing her and resting on her breast, or simply pressing the length of his body against hers, and entwining limb and breath anywhere and everywhere they could.

She can feel his strong hands in hers.

Altogether too soon, it all fades.

The space between her fingers is once again achingly empty with a lingering pressure as if released only a moment ago, and not soon-to-be three years ago.

She can feel her breath ghost through the shape of his name unarticulated and slip between her lips as an unvoiced threnody. His name can no longer find purchase in her mouth – it soared off of her tongue for the last time the day he was finally freed to fly.

She finally sits up in bed, the sheets pooled around her hips as she listens to the stone-stillness of the gray morning.

The mornings when she can still feel are few and far between, and she shoves this one down with the rest of them, banishing it to the far corners of her mind to be locked away with everything else from before that day.

She refuses to acknowledge the residual ache of carnal needs roused in sleep and now ignored.

The traitorous emotions are harnessed and obliterated, and she releases her last unsteady breath before filling her lungs with the anesthetic of control.

She has no use for emotions, much less desire.

Those are indulgences afforded to the living and she is not a part of their world.

This is what she reminds herself when the days stretch in front of her interminably and her she swallows one more burgeoning, hopeless sob before it can do more than tighten her throat.

She does not belong here, and she will not be long here.

In the grand scheme of things, it will all be over soon.

Her days amidst the living are definitely and finitely numbered and only a fraction of the eternity she will spend with him in death.

She must be patient.

She must endure.

And so she does  
>for just one more morning<br>…and one more day,  
>…and one more night,<br>…and one more sleep,  
>…and one more buried ache.<p>

And suddenly the calender says a month has gone by.

And she continues to be patient.

And she continues to endure.

And she continues to measure her life  
>not in hours<br>…and days,  
>…and weeks,<br>…but in missions,  
>…and miles,<br>…and visits to the Memorial.

And suddenly two more months have gone by.

And it is Autumn.

And it has been three years.

And she still does not belong among the living.

And she is still patient.

And she still endures.

And she is that much closer to being with him once more.

For that - she can and will endure anything.

And so she does.

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><p>Next chapter: Hope Macabre<p> 


	7. VII: Hope Macabre

_A/N: Kishimoto owns Naruto, and all of his Narutoygoodness. I am just coping with having no updates on Wednesdays._

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><p><strong>Kunoichi<br>VII. Hope Macabre**

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><p>The rain pounds down on her and she is wavering but on her feet, focusing on the name immortalized in stone and inscribed upon her heart.<p>

She knows he is there, and she wonders how she lost track of the time.

It is his turn with the ghosts.

She straightens up to leave, her finger lingering on his name as if she has to push or tear herself away – he isn't sure which – her fingertip snagging and dragging clumsily as it slips down the slick stone.

He pretends not to notice.

She slides her ANBU mask back in place before she turns and bows her respect.

He briefly meets her dark, empty eyes and nods, own his expression literally and figuratively masked.

There is a brief electric tension as they pass, shoulders millimeters apart.

She senses him deciding not to say something, and she is grateful.

He doesn't need to turn to know she has vanished.

She has been gone for close to fifteen minutes when he notices the dark rivulets trailing from the familiar name and washing down he stone.

He reaches out and runs a finger over the stone, and when he draws his hand away from the still-warmed name, there is blood staining his fingers. He looks down sharply to see splashes of red on the base of the memorial diluted and swirling against the dark of the stone.

Biting off a curse he summons the ninken to find her and hurries in the direction he thinks she took.

Another precious fifteen minutes slip by before he arrives at the old training ground.

The surrounding targets each bear a strike to their center, the handles of the weapons already cool in the increasingly heavy rain.

She isn't here.

He almost leaves, but something makes him turn around sharply, his eyes widening as his mind makes sense of what he is actually seeing.

She _is_ here.

She is a collapsed and camouflaged heap in the mud, ANBU mask clutched in her hand.

In less than a second, he is kneeling next to her and hauling her limp body out of the mud.

She can barely register the sensation of her body being held in a sitting position then being jostled against what was probably bent arm and knee.

He eyes her wounds even as he frantically searches the base of her neck for a pulse.

She doesn't feel her ANBU mask tumble out of her fingers, or the warmth of his hand at her throat.

She is mud-soaked and wan, and has clearly lost a significant amount of blood, but he finally finds the barest hint of a thready pulse.

The sound of the rain is soothing, and fading, even as her breath slows on a sigh.

"Captain," he barks sharply.

She thinks she hears a voice in the distance, and she manages to crack an eye open.

"Captain, report!"

She can't quite make out what the person she suspects is Kakashi is saying, but he looks farther away than she knows he must be.

"Captain, your mission," he says in a voice far more confident and commanding than he feels as he tries to force her to resurface. "What is your status? Report!"

She fights to swim to the top of her consciousness, focusing everything on the Hokage, but it is like trying to run up a rockslide.

He watches her brow furrow and her lips try to move.

She hasn't eaten in days, is wounded and fevered, and is numbing in the rain, but still she tries.

"Captain," he urges her fiercely, trying to keep her from slipping away. "Report!"

It is an order, and she is trying to comply, but she is being dragged from the surface and into a dark, silent depth.

He watches as her eyes wander over his face as if they can't fix on one point.

"Mission…complete. Threat eliminated…Hokage-sama," she mumbles before her eyes drift closed.

He shakes her and slaps his fingertips rapidly along the side of her face, as if intolerant of her insubordination. "Captain!"

She wishes she could assure him that this is fine – it is alright if she goes.

He gathers her in his arms and tells her to hold on. "That is a direct order from the Hokage, Captain."

She feels his voice rumble through his chest and manages a last glimpse at his face.

Her vision goes black.

She welcomes the darkness and hopes that this time, she will not wake.

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><p><em>Next Chapter: Wake <em>


	8. VIII: Wake

_A/N: Kishimoto owns Naruto, and all of his Narutoygoodness. I am just coping with having no updates on Wednesdays._

_Happy Thanksgiving, friends!_

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><p><strong>Kunoichi<br>VIII. Wake**

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><p>She does wake.<p>

The sound of the heart monitor is slow and steady as it records the exertions of a heart that by all rights should not still be beating.

She lies still and numb, staring at the ceiling.

After a while she flexes her fingers experimentally.

She can tell that her wounds have been tended and bandaged.

She can even tell that they rehydrated her.

She sighs.

She is very much and unfortunately, alive.

The older nurse comes in and adjusts the bed so she is sitting up, chatting merrily and taking no offense at her absolute silence.

Now that she knows she won't be dying here, she sees no need to stay. As soon as this woman leaves, she is removing the monitors and going home.

When the nurse's back is turned, Tenten stealthily reaches for the monitor.

"Feeling better, Captain?"

She snaps her eyes up to find him leaning in the doorway. He pushes off of the door and enters in the room just as a nurse turns to change out her IV bag.

"Hokage-sama!" the nurse greets him brightly. "Just as we told you – the patient will make a full recovery!" She turns warm and friendly eyes to her and beams. "Good thing Lord Sixth found you! Why, if he hadn't gotten you to us when he did, you might not have made it to the morning!"

His gaze is locked on hers.

"Yeah," she says tonelessly. "Good thing."

"Now, lie back so I can check your vitals," the nurse instructs, and after another few seconds of quiet war with Kakashi, she complies. She fixes her gaze on some point near the foot of her bed and lets the nurse monitor and record her recovery.

Kakashi probably saved her life.

She should be grateful.

But she can't help the constriction in her chest as a single, driving thought roils up through her consciousness.

Her death – her release – has been stolen from her yet again.

"Well," the nurse takes the stethoscope from her ears and wraps it around her neck before removing the blood pressure cuff. "I'm done here. One of us will be by later with some food – you should try to eat," she admonishes gently. "Until then," she reaches over and flicks something on at the IV pole, "Tsunade-sama has ordered you to rest for the remainder of the evening. You'll be released in the morning."

Tenten's eyes widen slightly, but her face stays impassive.

"That isn't necessary," she says firmly.

"She said you'd say that," the nurse's cheerful smile didn't hide the glint in her eye. Perhaps there was a reason she had been assigned to her after all. "Unfortunately, as soon as this is done emptying into your system you won't have much of a choice."

Tenten snaps a look to the IV pole and then back to the nurse.

"Tsunade-sama's orders," she continues cheerfully. "I gave you half of the dose when I first came in, so you might as well get comfortable."

Even as the nurse explains, she knows with a sinking feeling that she is not kidding. She can feel the weight of the sedative as it slides through her veins to settle like lead into her muscles.

She has lost.

She lies against the pillows with resignation, and focuses on some point miles away.

Kakashi watches as the nurse scribbles on the chart while stealing glances at her reluctant patient. "Lady Tsunade was adamant that I keep an eye on you," she finally offers in a softer, maybe kinder voice. "You gave us a good scare, Captain." She flicks her gaze to Kakashi and then adds, "You were in quite a state when Lord Sixth brought you here." She puts the chart back perfunctorily and checks the time. "I'll let the other nurses know you are here, Hokage-sama," she says. "You will be undisturbed for at least the next hour."

With that, she leaves.

Kakashi looks over to Tenten who is still staring out into nothing.

He pulls a chair over to her bedside and sits.

She isn't looking at him, but she can feel his eyes on her.

"She isn't exaggerating, Captain," he says quietly. "Tsunade asked me how you had gotten into such a state. I find myself wondering the same thing."

She knows he is expecting an explanation, and he will not allow her to sit in silence.

"Numbing agent on the weapons," she finally offers. "I didn't notice some of the bigger wounds until right before I passed out from blood loss."

"Oh, Tsunade figured that out right away," he says easily, leaning back in his chair. "She is having Shizune work up an antidote; it is a mild variation on a paralytic venom. She doubts it will work on you twice."

"Hn."

"What puzzled Tsunade," he continues, "is that it appears that you hadn't eaten in days, and what had probably been a mild fever had been allowed to run rampant in your system. Given your mission report, that might even make sense – sounds like a brutal time. What doesn't make sense is not going to the medics as soon as you returned to Konoha. That is standard protocol, Captain."

Silence.

"Do you have an explanation?"

She can't explain.

She can't explain that she had been bone tired and wounded and cold and utterly alone. She turned in her report, and would have gone to the medics, but she had to go see him first.

She hadn't seen him in months.

She needed to stand in that place she allowed herself to believe he still existed; the one place on the planet she was a little less lonely – a little less lost.

She needed to go to see him, and then she would go to the medics.

But while she was there, the darkness came – probably because of the hunger and fatigue and blood loss.

She didn't leave him just go to train.

She went to battle.

The demons of three years had grown and twisted around her heart, and she fought them the only way she knew how, and in the place where she knew his strength still lingered, having seeped into the earth and air of that place.

No, she didn't realize she had lost quite as much blood as she had, or how grave her situation was fast becoming…but that might not have stopped her.

She can't explain.

She is weary and has no will left for explanations.

She only has raw.

"Tactical error," is all she says.

Kakashi is left to interpret that as he will.

"Hm," he muses. "That is unlike you."

"Yes," she allows. "It is."

It isn't like her to let the demons rise to do battle.

It is even less like her to lose.

But she is less and less like herself these days.

"You have become one of my most elite ANBU Captains," he says, his manner calm, as always. "But not everything is a solo mission. You have comrades, and you must depend on them, on and off of duty."

She can feel his eyes on her.

"We are shinobi of the Leaf. We never leave one of ours behind."

She feels the fissure inside of her chest and the dull familiar ache, at least until she shoves it away.

She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes. When she opens them, she is fixed on the white ceiling, and ignoring the single raindrop that seems to have lingered on her skin to trail down her cheek.

"Maybe this time…" She finally says, her voice hollow and pained and hoarse, "you should have made an exception."

He shakes his head. "Not an option, Captain. Besides. Gai would never have forgiven me."

"Gai will always forgive you," she says tonelessly.

"Neji wouldn't."

She feels the lighting stab of ice and a constriction where her heart used to be, as surely as if he had turned the chidori on her instead of just a name.

No one has spoken his name to her in years, and she hasn't spoken it in longer than that.

Because to her – it isn't a just a name.

It is an invocation.

It is sacred.

It is a lifetime.

It is a universe.

It is everything.

And she can't bear it.

He watches her closely and knows only too well the venomous pain that is poisoning her blood and gnawing away at her bones and heart and mind and flesh.

"He would want you to live, Tenten," he says quietly. "I don't think he would approve of you gambling with your life as freely as you do."

She grinds her teeth but makes no reply.

"Captain?"

He waits out the long pause.

"Noted, Hokage-sama."

He doesn't stay much longer.

He is aware of the blow he just dealt, and he knows there will be no more progress on this visit.

"Get some rest, Captain," he finally says, standing up.

He takes her silence as her reply.

He leaves the room and the nurse looks up from her work at the nurses station.

"I shall keep you posted, Hokage-sama," she promises. "Lady Tsunade asked that I would. She should be fully recovered by morning."

"Ah. Thank you." He turns to leave, his expression neutral.

He knows the nurse means well, but he doubts a 'full recovery' is in the cards for this patient.

You can't heal a broken heart when the heart is no longer a part of the body you are trying to heal.

* * *

><p>Next Chapter: The Long Way Home<p>

See you next week!


	9. IX: The Long Way Home

_Naruto = Kishimoto's. Still. Forever. _

* * *

><p><strong>Kunoichi<strong>  
><strong>IX. The Long Way Home<strong>

* * *

><p>She has been gone for the better part of four months<p>

The harsh winter has delayed her return to Konoha, and she is forced by the snow to take an alternate route home.

She supposes she shouldn't mind; it isn't like she is in a hurry to wait out her time between missions in Konoha.

But it has been a long time since she paid her respects to the memorial, and something keeps her moving along to get back.

It is by pure accident that she is where she is when she is.

The small band of villagers are returning home along the snow-heavy mountainside. They don't have far to go, really. They recognize her standard Konoha uniform and warn her that this area can be treacherous, and it is unwise to travel alone. They urge her to travel with them.

She hears the good sense in their words, and agrees to travel with them until they reach the village. From there she will go on alone.

They tell stories to each other and laugh. They share a warm drink that she would swear was alcoholic, but they assure her the warming properties have nothing to do with alcohol. They insist she eats their food and sits on the wagon with the children. She does sit with them for a while before saying she is more used to walking, and gives one of the others a break.

She feels it before she hears it.

A deep rumbling under her feet and a change in the charge of the air. The horses must feel it, too, because their ears twitch and they begin to nicker nervously.

The leader of the group looks up sharply. He has traveled these paths his whole life and knows what is coming.

"Quickly!" he urges them, and the others move with a synchronicity born of trust and experience. He calculates that the rockslide triggered an avalanche, but if they can clear this next bend, they will be out of harm's way.

She does what they tell her to do, marveling that even the younger children are trying to help. She is almost the last to get on the cart – the mother of one of the children is right behind her. The terrified cries of the two children from the wagon are sharp in the air, even as the mother tells them to be calm.

She sees it before the other woman and makes her decision. She gets behind her and forces her to get into the cart first- to take the hand of the strong young man inside. The mother makes it just in time – and she is just that little bit too late. Her fingertips are millimeters away from the villager when she feels the snow slam into her and he is left to snatch at thin air.

The tumble of snow whisks her away, stealing her breath and knocking her unconscious.

What seems like moments later, she can feel herself surfacing from sleep. She is resting against something warm and soft. The buzz of familiar voices gradually begins to replace the humming in her ears.

She manages to open her eyes and blankly stares up into eyes so achingly familiar, they steal her breath.

The distant voice is soft and gentle, as is the cool, healing touch, pressed to her forehead.

The second voice is deep and sedate.

The third voice is brash and jovial.

The fourth voice is a dog.

Her mind sluggishly pieces the puzzle together and recognition clicks in.

Team Eight.

She is in the circle of Akamaru's large, warm body, and there is a cheery fire in a fireplace. Shino and Kiba are talking, and Hinata is adjusting a blanket over her.

The others don't realize she is awake yet.

The raven haired woman mutely presses a warm mug of hot tea into her hands that she instantly recognizes as a unique Hyūga blend he favored.

Brown eyes scour lavender and she knows Hinata can see past the barriers to the sorrow and empty and loss banked there.

She doesn't expect to see the guileless and unfathomable depth of understanding and kindness in those almost-same-but-different eyes.

Something in her lurches painfully.

She turns away from those eyes that see too much, thinking she will finish her tea and then feign sleep.

Kiba must notice she is awake, because he turns to them while smiling his fanged grin.

"Welcome back," he says easily.

She looks around.

"The villagers?"

"All safe," Kiba assures her. "And also all worried about you."

"What happened?" she asks, her voice raspy in her own ears. "And how are you here?"

"We were returning home from a mission," Kiba said. "We stopped in this village to rest for the night. We heard the avalanche and headed out to see what happened. The villagers that you traveled with were already looking for you. They recognized us as Leaf, and told us that one of our kunoichi had been swept away. We tracked you down."

Tenten's mind was moving slowly.

"How?" she asked weakly.

"Hinata found you," Shino said, rising from his seat.

Tenten looked up at the quiet woman who remained silent.

"Took a few fang-over-fang's to get you out," Kiba continued cheerfully. "Nice little afternoon workout." He nodded to Akamaru. "Your body temperature was way low, though. That is why I put you on Akamaru. Old Inuzuka survival trick."

The big dog thumped his tail and briefly raised his head to her before resting it back on his paws.

"So where are we now?" she asks, reaching her hand out to scratch the large dog's ears.

"Back in the village," Kiba stretches and pounds his fist on his shoulders a couple of times. "The villagers are putting us up for the night. We should hit the hot springs – us because we are tired as hell and you because you were doing a pretty damned good impression of an icicle earlier."

"Kiba is right," Hinata finally speaks up as she stands. "Your body temperature is still low. We should get you to the onsen."

Tenten looks almost alarmed. "That's not necessary."

"They are private," Shino says in his monotone voice. "They are part of this inn, and the owner cleared it for our use only as thanks."

"That settles it," Kiba rubs his hands together. He looks over to Tenten. "Can you walk?"

She frowns darkly.

He holds his hands up. "I'm just offering transportation to the changing area. Past that it's all you and Hinata.

Akamaru perks his ears up, and Kiba turns his head to the side as if listening to something in the distance while he sniffs the air. He smirks at Hinata. "Incoming."

Tenten is confused until she hears the muffled voice grow closer. "Hinata-hime!"

"They told you she is here," another voice sighs. "Why are you-"

The door to their room flies open, and Naruto comes barging in to wrap Hinata in a fierce hug. "The avalanche," he says quickly into her hair before holding her at arm's length. "You aren't hurt, are you?"

Sakura enters behind him and goes straight to Tenten, kneeling next to her. "Long time no see," she says running a glowing green hand over her.

"So how'd you find us this time, Naruto," Kiba asks, bored.

Naruto doesn't break eye contact with his wife. "I just knew something was up," he says. "I went into sage mode and sensed the avalanche near where you were. Kurama warned me, so I grabbed Sakura-chan and here we are."

"And he literally means 'grabbed,'" Sakura chimes in. "You're lucky Sasuke-kun isn't due back today, and that Shizune could cover my shifts," Sakura shakes her head at her teammate.

"I wasn't in any danger," Hinata says, apologetically.

"I know, I know," Naruto sighs. "But there aren't many medics out here, and I knew at least one of ours was caught up in that snow. You doing alright?" he turns to look at Tenten.

The dark haired woman returns the look, confused.

"You mean…"

Naruto scratches the back of his head. "Yeah, I kinda knew that you were in trouble. I figured these guys could find you," he nods toward Kiba and Shino, "Can't beat Team Eight at the rescue and recovery thing, but I didn't want to take any chances. Besides, avalanches make for dangerous searches. Shino told me that it is one of the most dangerous conditions to search in."

"You were listening?" Shino asks in genuine astonishment. "I find that to be surprising. Why you ask? That is because-"

"But you are okay?" Naruto asks Tenten while Shino sighs, ignored again.

"She's fine," Sakura says, her glowing palm lingering over a few old, poorly mended wounds as she corrects them. "But you really need to get your core temperature up." She looks up at Naruto. "Want to give a boost?"

"Hm? Oh, yeah, I can do that," he goes over to Tenten. He reaches out and puts a hand on her shoulder and they lock eyes. He gives her an encouraging smile.

She had forgotten how blue his eyes are – and how deep they can be. She sees the warm red glow flow from his hand to wash over her, and she can feel heat moving through her body as Sakura monitors with her glowing green palm. His chakra is warm and familiar, and she is surprised at the shift of something in her chest as it flows through her. Sakura keeps her hand hovered over her heart; perhaps it is the mingling of chakra that resonates in her breast.

Before she could give it much thought, Sakura speaks up.

"That should do it," she nods, and Naruto gives Tenten's shoulder a friendly squeeze before standing up awkwardly.

"Probably should've asked if that was okay," He rubbed the back of his head. "Sakura-chan and I figured out that my chakra transfer is more effective if done right to the main part of the body when the whole thing needs a boost."

Tenten stays mute but nods. She doesn't mention that – hand-to-hand combat aside, - she has had more physical contact in the last hour than she has had in probably the last six months. She is puzzling over the strange sensation that lingered after the infusion of his chakra. What was that?

Naruto's hand was strong and warm and his chakra was a sharp, familiar reminder of those last days. She doesn't feel the same ache remembering this time, and that strikes her. There is something else there, and she doesn't know what it is.

Sakura gives a satisfied nod. "Much better. Hinata? Anything?"

Tenten looks up just in time to see Hinata's Byakugan recede. "Everything looks fine," she says quietly.

"Good. Let's get you into the hot springs – that will round it all out nicely."

Tenten looks to them all and realizes that this is happening whether she likes it or not. She no longer has the excuse of being too hard for Hinata to help – not when Sakura and her monstrous strength are now part of the equation.

"Alright," she sighs.

Naruto punches the air. "Yosh! Hot springs for everyone!"

"Why," Kiba arches an eyebrow at Naruto. "You were in Konoha like – an hour ago. What did you do to earn a trip to the hot springs?"

"I found you guys," Naruto beams. "And I brought the medic. I'm back-up!"

Kiba snorts, Shino sighs and Sakura laughs.

The girls make their way to the hot spring. Their conversation is light, and their stay isn't extended. Sakura wants to make sure that Tenten gets to bed and has a good night's sleep. Hinata volunteers to go ahead and make sure there is something warm to eat waiting for them. Tenten manages to move mostly on her own, and Sakura is there the time she stumbles, holding her up with no strain whatsoever. Tenten sinks to the bench in the changing area and Sakura runs a palm over her, checking her temperature and other vitals. Tenten dresses quickly. She manages to keep her one visible tattoo from being detected this evening because she isn't up to any explanations or pity in close quarters.

Soon they are back in their room, and there are steaming bowls of soup waiting. Tenten is hungrier than she thought she would be, and is surprised to find she finishes all of the food. She doesn't eat like that much these days.

"Hope you don't mind," Sakura looks to Tenten apologetically. "Naruto sort of talked the innkeeper into a third room for him and Hinata. I'll bunk in here for the night if that is alright."

Tenten shrugs drowsily. "It's fine." Her fatigue suddenly overwhelms her, and Sakura half urges half forces her to get to bed.

"You should try to get some rest," she reasons. "Naruto has a bunch of clones keeping watch, and Shino apparently set some kind of bug alarm system," she shudders involuntarily. "Kakashi probably doesn't have this level of security," she teases lightly.

Tenten gives a half smile in response. She wants to protest, but she finds sleep beginning to steal over her.

Sakura sits on the edge of her bed and runs a final check over her, before folding her hands in her lap, as if debating what to say.

"What is it?" Tenten surprises her by asking, watching the medic through tired but attentive eyes.

"I…I never got to thank you," she offers slowly. "Your message… last year? It… it meant a lot to know that he was okay." She looks over her friend carefully. "He told me about it when he came home. Thanks for looking out for him."

Tenten gives a small shrug. "No problem."

Sakura nods, and stands quietly. Tenten feels something tug at the back of her tongue, and the words leap from her mouth before she realizes they are even there. "Congratulations, by the way," she says to Sakura's half turned back. "On your wedding. Sorry I…I couldn't be there."

Sakura turns and smiles a quiet, understanding smile before putting a firm but gentle hand on Tenten's shoulder.

"You were there when it counted the most."

With that, Sakura turns to get ready for bed, and Tenten allows sleep to overtake her.

When she wakes the next morning, Tenten is amazed at how good she feels. She figures it is Naruto's chakra at work, and swallows the memories that realization threatens to resurrect with less difficulty than normal.

They are all waiting for her – they will travel back to Konoha in a group.

She had been on her way back to Konoha when she stopped to help those travelers, so she doesn't have a good reason _not_ to return with Team Eight, Sakura, and Naruto.

Sakura doesn't want to risk her body temperature lowering again, so Naruto keeps her cloaked in a thin mantle of chakra, and Kiba insists that she rides Akamaru to minimize the risk of fatigue or Naruto's chakra not keeping up. Shino discretely hands her a canteen on the one break they take, and watches to make sure she drinks as well as eats the rations they have divided to share with her. Sakura keeps a close eye on her, and Naruto and Kiba keep a cheerful commentary running the whole time. Hinata is silent, scouting ahead with her Byakugan, making sure their route is as direct and uncomplicated as possible.

When they get to Konoha, Naruto and Shino go to report in to Kakashi, while Kiba, Hinata, and Sakura take her for her post-mission check in at the hospital.

Kiba leaves them at the door with his cocky grin.

"Thanks," Tenten manages.

Kiba just shrugs. "No problem. You're one of us. We've always got each other's backs."

That statement is rolling around in her head while she waits for Sakura to come back in and clear her to leave. She wraps her arms around herself and looks out of the window. She has absolutely no damage from the avalanche or her time in the snow, so she expects to be back in the field tomorrow. She still can't figure what happened when Naruto's chakra flooded over her. Something changed… but what?

She hears the door open but doesn't turn around right away.

Hinata slips in and offers her a small smile. She had to fill out some minor paperwork since she had technically been the first medical responder on the scene where a Konoha shinobi had been injured. Considering that the follow-up medic had been one of the top two in the entire Shinobi nations, Hinata is fairly certain her paperwork is redundant; nevertheless, she does her duty without complaint or second thought.

She crosses the short distance to Tenten.

"You should be released soon," she says in her gentle voice. "Do you want me to wait for you to go home?"

Tenten shakes her head. "No," her voice sounds gruff in her own ears, especially when it hangs in the same air as Hinata's. "Thank you," she adds as if the platitude is rusty from neglect and heavy in her mouth.

Hinata surprises her by reaching for her hands and meeting her startled eyes with something infinitely kind and unwavering.

"If you need anything, please tell me. And I don't just mean in your current situation. I'm always here for you."

Tenten's surprise must show, because Hinata's laugh is light. "Why so surprised? Like Kiba said – you are one of us."

Tenten can't look into those eyes any more. She drops her gaze to their joined hands and squeezes them. She fights down the unfamiliar tightness in her throat, and things that she thought she had forgotten how to feel.

"Thank you, Hinata."

The pale hands wrap around hers gently but firmly before she turns quietly for the door. Tenten listens to her soft footfall, noting that it pauses.

"Everyday."

Tenten looks up. Hinata's gaze is somewhere to the side.

"I miss him. Everyday."

She turns back to the battle-hardened kunoichi, and Tenten feels that achingly-familiar-but-not-the-same gaze lock onto her. "But I've missed you, too Tenten. When you are ready to come home, we will all be here for you."

And with that, she leaves the room.

* * *

><p>Next Chapter: On The Edge<p> 


	10. X: On the Edge

_A/N: I do not own Naruto because if I did, I would be watching the movie in Japan right. now. Also, I would apparently know Japanese, so I wouldn't have to wait for sub versions. Boo._

* * *

><p><strong>Kunoichi<br>X. On the edge**

* * *

><p>Kakashi makes his way down the streets of Konoha, hands in his pockets.<p>

It is getting late, he notes with an eye to the darkening sky.

"Just in there."

He looks down to Pakkun, who tilts his head to the building across the street.

"She is still there?"

"Ah," Pakkun bobs his head. "Bull and Shiba watched the front, and Akino and Urushi are at the back. The rest patrolled the neighborhood while I went to get you. You should have summoned us sooner; we wouldn't have let her leave the hospital."

"Thank you, Pakkun," Kakashi says, eyeing the doorway. "Let Lee and Gai know everything is fine. I'll handle it from here."

Pakkun nodded and trotted off to inform the other ninken before they released.

Kakashi entered the restaurant/bar, his posture deceptively easy.

He knew after she turned in her mission report that she would go to the medics; she had been vigilant about that since their last discussion – probably to avoid a repeat of the discussion.

Since she had returned to Konoha with Team Eight and Naruto and Sakura, more of the Konoha 11 had been checking in with him about her. Sakura had sent word that she declined to stay in the hospital for observation, and was heading home. Kakashi, equal parts suspicious and concerned, decided he should check in with his Captain. When he neared her apartment, he ran into Lee. Lee told him that he had gone to visit his teammate, but she wasn't home. Kakashi knew that Lee didn't know his stubborn teammate should have still been in the hospital, and said he'd let him know if he bumped into her.

He finds her sitting with her back in the corner of a booth, legs stretched out on the bench seat and staring into nothing.

The bartender rushes over to the Hokage, wringing his hands in a dishtowel.

"I'm glad you are here, Hokage-sama. The Captain has been sitting like this for about the last twenty minutes, but she won't speak or break out of that stare. I've seen her drink before – she definitely didn't have enough to make her like this. I was going to get a hold of Lee or Gai; I figured they might know what to do. I was afraid if I startled her, she might get spooked, and we all know she is always well armed, and…"

Kakashi silences his sputtering monologue with a raised hand.

He turns to Tenten.

"Captain."

She turns her head to him slowly, and her eyes follow behind on a delay as if reluctant to break her focus on some distant point.

He sees the emptiness there, and it is almost like he can look through her.

"We are leaving."

She nods and stands, adding some coins to the money she already had neatly on the table.

She bows wordlessly to the bartender and makes her way out of the bar with a controlled rigidity that is impressive.

The bartender's mouth hangs open in a fish-like "O."

Kakashi thanks him for keeping this between them. The healthy tip he leaves closes the discussion, and cements the man's cooperation.

He follows behind her, hands jammed in pockets.

"Drunk?" he asks conversationally.

"Probably."

"I see you reported into the medics after you mission."

"That is standard protocol," she returns dryly.

"So it is," he concedes. "Another mission with little sleep and food – A week on soldier pills was it?"

"Give or take," she shrugs.

"Poisoned this time," he notes. "Nasty stuff. If it wasn't for your tolerance for that sort of thing we probably wouldn't be speaking."

"Lucky me," she mutters.

"In fact," he continues, ignoring her, "Shizune tells me that the only thing worse than that particular poison is the antidote. I believe," he looks her up and down, "that you were advised by both Shizune and Sakura to stay in the hospital for observation for the next twenty four hours. When that recommendation was declined, you were to go directly home."

"Sounds vaguely familiar," she says offhandedly.

"Hm," he hums. "As I recall, this particular antidote reacts even worse when alcohol is in the system."

"Do tell," she says, ignoring the beginnings of fire in her body and the needlepricks of pain starting to dance along her nerve endings.

"I can't imagine that you were unaware of this," Kakashi continues, never breaking stride, but noting the thin sheen of perspiration beginning to form along her skin. "Not given both your expertise in these matters and what I am sure the medics told you. Alcohol combined with the byproducts of the antidote breaking down the poison can be fatal."

"It can be," she agrees.

"But?" he asks.

"But not when tempered with the antidote I took on my own as soon as I realized they were using poisoned gas and weapons, and about three years spent building up a tolerance and immunity to multiple compounds including this specific byproduct."

"So you were at the bar because?"

She stops and turns to face him with eyes narrowed in frustration, and momentarily less hollow.

"Because I _really_ needed a fucking drink."

He blinks at her, his posture never changing from hands-in-pocket-relaxed.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, Hokage-sama," she says in a carefully controlled voice, "I have a very long night ahead of me and have to leave for a mission tomorrow. I am going home."

She turns on her heel and strides toward her apartment, ignoring the fact that he is following in her wake.

He sees the tremble in her step.

He is walking alongside of her and she flicks a dark glance at him before returning her concentration to getting back to her own apartment.

Concentration that he can see is waning.

He finally asks:

"Can you make it home?"

Before she can even think to respond, she has a swift and effective reminder one of the other side effects of the poison/antidote/alcohol trifecta.

Blackouts.

Her legs give out and he catches her just in time.

He looks down at her form and sighs.

"I'll take that as a 'no.'"

* * *

><p><em>Next Chapter: Rubicon<em>


	11. XI: Rubicon

_The Narutos. I don't own them.  
><em>

_Also? This might stretch to 24 installments instead of 20, because I have a thing for symmetry and the next chapter is pretty much the midpoint. Just a heads up. :)_

* * *

><p><strong>Kunoichi<br>XI. Rubicon**

* * *

><p>He brings her back to his place for three reasons.<p>

1) He can get there quickly.

2) It is common knowledge in ANBU that she lives out of containment scrolls. Her apartment is Spartan, and neat, but essentially there is a bed and not much else.

3) He is sure everything she needs is either in the scroll she always carries with her or can be found (or a reasonable substitute can be found) in his own home.

He carries her the whole way, and lowers her onto his couch before disappearing into the kitchen.

When he returns, she is awake and staring up at his ceiling.

He helps her sit up.

If she is drunk, she isn't an aggressive or talkative drunk.

She is silent.

He offers her a specific soldier pill and some water.

She takes the water and ignores the soldier pill.

"It won't do anything," she says calmly.

"Humor me," he says with his crinkle-eyed smile.

She mutely takes the pill and finishes the water.

"I'm going home," she says standing. "Thank you for letting me wait out the blackout."

"Going to weather this at home alone?" he asks casually.

"It won't be the first time," she assures him. "I know what to do."

He almost relents.

Something raises the hairs on the back of his neck – a whisper – a warning.

He catches the tiniest of movements in her jaw – a crack in the façade, and with a sudden and frightening clarity, he _knows_.

The demons are back.

Ice slides down his neck, and he is suddenly and viscerally, and grimly certain that if he sends her away to battle alone, she will not keep the darkness at bay.

He does not question why he knows - his years of experience have taught him to trust his instincts.

And his instincts tell him that this is not a battle she can win.

If she is left alone, she will be dead by morning.

That is unacceptable.

"You have two choices," he says in a calm voice with an undertone of authority that is unmistakable iron.

She looks over to him and arches an eyebrow. The pain is starting to slide under her skin, and her already limited options will be nonexistent if she doesn't get home.

"And going through this alone isn't one of them."

Her jaw tightens.

"I am not on assignment, Hokage-sama," she says tightly. "My time is my own."

"True," he says. "But in this instance, Sakura outranks you. By not staying in the hospital, you deliberately disobeyed the orders of a superior officer. You could return to the hospital for the next twenty-four hours per your orders, and that charge will be dropped."

He is several feet away from her, but can feel her whole body tense as she wills herself to remain calm.

"And my other choice?"

"You can weather this with an assigned mission partner. As you know, we are spread a little thin, but I can get you to Gai, Lee, Hinata or Kurenai."

She grimaces, something in her being twisting even as the needles of pain begin to press more insistently along her skin.

"We never abandon our comrades Captain," he says his voice low. "And that includes me. You can stay here, or you can be released to the care of the hospital or another shinobi. Think of it as an excercise in teamwork."

When she says nothing, he continues.

"I didn't recognize the warnings last time," he says looking her over, "but I know the face of one getting ready to battle demons. This time," he says, his face grim, "I will not leave you to face them alone."

She looks over at him, and she knows that soon, she will not be able to be moved.

She has gone through this before; she knows she might not have control of what she says or what she does. She won't have them see her like that. It is too raw a pain to share. She can face her own monsters; she can't face them worrying about her – she can't face the concern that will no doubt stain and strain those bonds.

And she hates hospitals.

They will sedate her. With her physical self immobilized, that leaves her to fight alone and trapped in the terrain of her own mind; the one battlefield where she is never equipped enough; where she can never find the right weaponry.

That is her worst kind of hell.

"This stays between us?" she asks quietly.

He nods.

"The drug," she says, her eyes beginning to tighten, "I am not always coherent when it is in full effect. I… I don't know what I will say, or…"

"Understood," he cuts her off. "I have done a few covert missions in my day, Captain. Besides a gentleman always forgets."

"Since when do you qualify," she half laughs.

"Well then look at it this way," he says lightly. "This spares you from having to turn in a report to the Hokage."

"There is that," she smirks. She looks him up and down and gives a perfunctory nod.

"Then we have to prepare, Hokage-sama. There isn't much time."

The next several moments are spent getting supplies from her scrolls, antidotes, remedies, teas, clothes – anything she needs but might not be able to unseal once this gets into full swing.

She is prepared to do battle.

Over the next five hours her body is wracked with shooting pain and chills – a side effect of the antidote on a weakened system and exacerbated by what probably would have been alcohol poisoning if he hadn't gotten that soldier pill into her. Her teeth chatter, and she breathes meditatively through the pain, keeping her vocalizations to a minimum. Occasionally she lapses into the same trance-like state he found her in, and he realizes she is doing this to weather the worst of the pain.

She can't seem to keep warm.

When even the blazing fire and several blankets cannot warm her, he runs a hot bath.

He is eternally grateful that she used the last shreds of her consciousness to dress in comfortable layers and left extra clothing out.

He gets her down to a tank top and the fitted shorts she thankfully had under her loose cotton pants before lifting her into the steaming water.

The shivers eventually stop, but they give way to another kind of shuddering, and the tears fall silently and in rapid succession.

Still, she will not speak. She will not put words to her pain or her emptiness.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she hears the occasional gasping of an escaped sob as it wracks her body, and wonders where it is coming from. She is quite certain all of hers were released many years ago.

She can taste the metallic hint of blood from where she bit her own lip trying to keep the memories at bay.

She vaguely registers the strong arm against her back as she vomits bile, having eaten nothing but soldier pills for several days. Distantly, she notes the surprisingly gentle fingers holding back her hair. She is given water to rinse her mouth out. She is being helped back into the now-empty tub and she sits numbly while strong fingers wash the tangle of her hair and rinse it with the hand-held showerhead.

Over the next half hour, her lucidity and control return, but her limbs are slow to follow suit.

She needs his help to get out of the tub and towel off.

He helps her shrug into a warm, thick robe she had unsealed – a gift from Sakura that she has never used but has kept with her for reasons she has never been able to articulate. She fishes the shorts out from under the robe and wrings them into the tub before leaving them to dry

He wrings her hair into a towel and is methodically combing through it in stages from the bottom up when he tells her the worst should be over.

She dumbly nods, eyes slowly regaining focus. Her hands are clumsy as she winds her damp hair into a single, loosely coiled bun. She clamps it into place using the odd claw clip Ino had given her – another item never used but dutifully stored, as she had not seen any practical application for the device.

He leaves her to brush her teeth and wash her face, but returns to help her to the couch.

Her limbs are weary and heavy as she curls into her corner and stares into the fire. The blanket dropped over her is soft and worn, and was a gift from Lee purchased on a joint mission many years ago. This she has used often.

She is waiting to have enough energy to exchange her now-dry clothes for her utilitarian sleepwear.

He presses a steaming mug of tea into her hands.

She watches as he pulls the small table over to her and places a plate of food on it.

She inhales the aromatic comfort of the tea, recognizing it as a blend she favors.

Everything toxic is out of her system now – now she just has to recover.

They sit in silence, the crackling of the fire the only sound in the room

"Eat something," he urges.

She glances up at him and he returns her gaze.

"Do I have to phrase that as an order from the Hokage?"

A ghost of a smirk passes across her lips.

"No, Hokage-sama."

It is the only thing she has said in nearly six hours.

He watches her nibble at the toast and pick at the fruit. Mostly she sits back and drinks the tea.

She tucks her legs under her and stares into her mug.

"As of today," he says, taking his seat in a chair across from her, "you are on medical leave."

Her eyebrow quirks but she does not otherwise react.

"Until?"

"Until you can explain to your Hokage why you seem so intent on killing one of his elite ANBU Captains."

Silence.

She can feel his eyes on her.

"I have all night," he says conversationally.

She shifts her gaze to the fire.

"I have a mission tomorrow."

He shrugs.

"Sai can go."

It is a low blow, and they both know it.

Of course Sai is perfectly capable of going; it had been his assignment to begin with.

She arrived on the assignment deck this morning, report in hand. Sai had been there, his placid demeanor replaced with carefully contained grief.

Ino had just miscarried and was scheduled for a D&C tomorrow.

He knew there were no replacements available, but he asked if the mission could be delayed by just one day to allow him to be with his wife.

She immediately informed, not asked, Kakashi that she would go in his place, and could be ready to leave the next morning.

He asked if the medics had cleared her yet. She told him she would be cleared by the next morning.

He agreed, she was assigned, Sai was put on leave effective immediately, and was to return only when Tsunade or Sakura felt it was safe for Ino to be without him.

She sizes him up critically.

"The mission can be offset by one day," he allows. "But I will send him, Captain."

He holds her gaze steadily, and with all of the authority and conviction of not only his position but of his status as the legendary shinobi and hardened war hero, Kakashi the Copy Ninja.

When he speaks it is in absolutes.

"I will not tolerate a threat to one of our shinobi – any of our shinobi - in the field or in the village."

Silence and the flexing of fingers and the smothered sigh of frustration.

"I am not sure what you expect me to say," she finally says.

"Then," he leans back in his chair and taps the space over his heart. "Start here."

He might not have the Sharingan anymore, but nothing escapes Kakashi's eyes.

She smirks and drops her gaze, recognizing her defeat.

"Alright Kakashi," she says quietly.

She slides the robe to the side, the verdant arms of the tattoo just visible above the neckline of her tanktop.

She tugs the neckline down, revealing what he already knew to be there.

"It is as good of a place to start as any."

* * *

><p>Next Chapter: Kunoichi<p> 


	12. XII: Kunoichi

_A/N: Dear Santa. I'd love to own Naruto. - GL_

_I was going to wait to update, but heck, why not. _

_*Dear readers. If you are thrown by this chapter, I ask you to remember there is a companion story titled 'Guardian' from Neji (as a ghost's) point of view, and it will explain more. I humbly request you trust me as an author and ride this story out with me. If I lose you after this chapter, I am sorry - maybe next time?_

_That being said: lemons ahead._

* * *

><p><strong>Kunoichi<br>XII. Kunoichi**

* * *

><p>The green of the tattoo is ominous against her firelit skin.<p>

Although it is what he expected to see, he still feels the weight in his chest when she confirms his suspicions.

He knows they all have their ghosts and burdens and secrets.

He even knows she can handle her own.

That doesn't stop him from recognizing that she is a threat to herself.

When she says nothing more, he raises his eyebrows to her.

"Care to explain?"

She holds his steady gaze and there is no sound or movement for a full minute, save for the flicker and crackle of the fire.

Finally, she puts down her tea and rises slowly. He watches her cross to the fireplace, resting her hand on the mantle to steady herself and gather her thoughts and words.

"I am a Kunoichi of Konoha," she says slowly, her eyes on the flames. "I am an inheritor of the Will of Fire, and a survivor of the Fourth Shinobi War. I am not afraid to die."

"No," his voice is clear from his seat behind her. "But why are you afraid to live?"

Her world stills to nothing.

"You are prepared to die for your village," he continues. "Why are you not also prepared to live for it?"

She shakes her head. "Every day I am alive, I live for my village."

"Do you?"

Her look is sharp but he is unphased. "I do not question your loyalty to Konoha. I do question the stability of a shinobi who is actively seeking their death."

"I will not die without cause," she says with steely conviction.

He raises his eyebrows at her.

"And what is your cause, Tenten?"

Silent war is waged in the airspace between them.

The air pressure shifts, and she feels him yield – if only a little bit – to allow her to speak.

"What is driving you?" he asks in a softer tone. "Help me to understand."

She isn't sure if it is the unmistakable note of honesty and respect for a fellow soldier in his voice, or the residual effects of the poison, or the antidote, or the alcohol, but suddenly she can't hide what she is – what she has become anymore.

She has to step out of the shadows.

She crosses the small space and stands directly in front of him.

Without breaking eye contact, she calmly unties the belt of the robe, and lets it slide off of her shoulders before she tosses it to the couch.

She performs the necessary hand seals, and releases the concealment jutsu.

Kakashi's eyes grow wide.

She is a battle-hardened kunoichi of Konoha.

Her physical training is second to none – Gai saw to that.

She is hard lines and defined muscles and marred skin and soft silk.

As much as he appreciates this, it is not what rivets his indivertible gaze to her.

It is the elaborate black tattoos that run the length of both arms, splay across parts of her back and vine down her legs.

Kakashi's eyes widen at the delicate intricacy of it all even as he recognizes he inscribing hand with foreboding.

His eyes trace their pattern even to the small space between the hem of her shirt and her underwear.

Following his gaze, and in the interest of full disclosure, she yanks the tank top over her head and lets it fall unceremoniously to the ground, just as she did when Sasuke demanded to see the results of her visit.

Except there is nothing else under her tank top.

The tattooing winds around her bared abdomen and under her full breasts. The green of the caged bird seal is prominent on the pale skin above her heart in stark contrast to scarred flesh and winding onyx.

She holds her arms out to him for inspection, wrists up.

He leans forward in his chair and gingerly runs his index finger along a line of chakra infused ink embedded in her skin, interpreting the complex seals and designs.

"Summoning tattoos?" he asks quietly, tracing the marks on her arm.

"Weapons summoning," she affirms.

Kakashi finds he has nothing to say.

Orochimaru has his summoning tattooed on his arm. Sasuke has a weapons tattoo on his wrist.

This is an entirely different level – more extreme than anything he has ever seen.

As he looks up, he is surprised to see someone staring back for a change – an echo of the person he once remembered living behind those large, hazel eyes. To see her now in this so markedly altered body, so scared by wounds, pain, ink, and time – he can only ask one question.

"Why?"

Her smile is small and sad.

"Because I am a Kunoichi of Konoha."

"…?"

"Each day I am alive it is _for_ my village," she said, eyes scanning his. "For my comrades. So that Sai can finally be 'Sai' and live to see his children and the life Danzo tried to steal from him. So that Sasuke can atone and return to Sakura who has worked her whole life to be the kind of person and kunoichi I could no. So Shino and Kiba can continue to bicker, and the Ino-Shika-Cho trio reaches the next generation, and that legendary alliance and its bond keeps the village strong. So Lee and Gai can live to be youthful into old age. So that Hinata can live to change the Hyūga clan, and makes sure this," she taps her fingers over her heart "is the last Caged Bird seal ever imprinted on any living soul." Her expression softens. "So Naruto can finally become Hokage, and keep the hate out of Konoha."

She pauses and there is steel under velvet in her tone.

"I put myself on the line so that they don't have to. I have nothing left to lose; they have _everything_ to lose."

Something passes between them and she can see the depth of his new and sudden understanding.

But there is another ghost in her gaze, and something inside him lurches to see Rin in her eyes and hear her echoes in this abject determination and conviction.

The night she was killed is always sharp in his memory. He can still see his her racing alongside him, trying to tell him that _something_ was wrong. He can hear her trying to reason out what had been done to her even as they fled from their pursuers. He did not know that in those moments, she was weighing her own life against the survival of village.

Against his own life.

To Rin, there would only ever be one answer to that question.

He sees that same resolve in Tenten's eyes.

That is when he knows with bone-deep certainty that for these two kunoichi, it was never a question in the first place.

Eyes heavy with the regret of being unable to prevent the eventuality of her sacrifice drift to the stark symbol so representative of all of the ugly of the shinobi world.

It is the only color inked into her skin.

The rest of the winding symbols are ink-black, and a combination of lines and shapes and inscriptions and seals and a hundred other things that he knows only one person could have put there.

"Orochimaru."

"Yes."

"What else could he possibly have taken from you in exchange?"

"Nothing," she meets his gaze steadily. "My life is already not my own."

"He always demands something in return," he says darkly.

"Then perhaps," her expression is wistful, "it is not what he took from me but what he denies me." She flicks her wrist and a fistful of shuriken appear between her fingers. "I am much harder to kill, now." Another flick of the wrist, and they are gone.

"At what price, Tenten," he asks her quietly. "And to what end?"

There is a heavy silence between them as they lock eyes not as once-teacher to her generation, or even as Hokage to ANBU elite, but as souls leveled and equalized by death in their lives.

When she speaks, it is with a gravitas far beyond the journey of twenty-some summers.

"I already paid my price."

He listens. Her voice is low but steady.

He does not expect the frank confession.

"My heart died on the battlefield, Kakashi. This body," she glances down at herself, "is all I have left to defend my village. Pain is nothing. Time is nothing."

Her eyes search his face.

"When death comes, I will welcome it. Until then, I endure to protect everything he sacrificed his life for until I can die as a shinobi and be with him again."

And with that single admission, she is more vulnerable now than she has been with another human being since she woke up all tangled limbs and naked skin and shared breath in the strong arms of the beautiful, brave man that became her other half.

Kakashi drops his gaze to his hands, folded in his lap as he sits hunched in the chair, shoulders bowed with the weight of burdens owned and shared.

What can he possibly tell her?

He sees her fingers reach for his own and follows them as she gently takes his hand and rests his palm on the damning mark engraved upon her as it once had been on the forehead of one of the bravest heroes and greatest losses of the Fourth Shinobi War.

When she speaks, it is as one familiar with the weights on his heart.

"We both know something about sacrifice and masking pain… don't we, Hokage-sama?"

And without knowing many of the particulars, he suddenly knows everything.

His finds his palm lifts and his fingers ghost over the sharp unyielding lines of green, hints of a heartbeat detectable under his fingertips, for all her claims that it had stopped on the battlefield.

Her hand raises to his face and tentative fingers trace his cheek through the mask, a butterfly-gentle touch begging forgiveness over permission.

Reciprocity.

He is aware of the minute and charged distance between his palm and the firm and full breast resting under the space below his arched and inspecting fingers.

With infinite tenderness and respect to the irrefutable evidence of her many sacrifices, he traces the thin blue veins that dart between the arcs of black lines, across to her sternum and down the valley between her breasts to follow the black markings and lay the flat of his hand on the curve of her hip. His thumb traces an arc over the intricacies etched into her skin by weapons, time, and ink.

He leans into the palm at his cheek, and watches her closely as he hooks the finger of his free hand into his mask and pulls it down around his neck.

And now he is naked to her, too, for all his clothing.

Strong fingers trace the planes of his cheek in understanding – in the ache of sorrow shared, and dreams forsaken if not forgotten.

The years between them are suddenly inconsequential.

They are two bleeding, broken beings, two ephemeral souls tied to this life for the sake of others, and ready to retire their morality without hesitation, should it protect those precious to them. She lowers her mouth to his as he raises his to hers.

Their world and the order inside of it fractures beautifully and irrevocably.

Lips brushing in question are soon crushed and pressed together heatedly.

She has only had one lover, and she had been his. Everything they knew they had learned from each other.

He never speaks of past loves, but he is no stranger to what is to come.

There is a hunger now in the touches and she nips at his bottom lip. He groans and hauls her to him, standing and scooping her up in one motion before flash stepping them both to his room. They tumble onto the bed and his mouth is on hers and then pressing heated kisses down her neck and to her breast. She arches against the starburst of sensation radiating in swirls traced by his tongue around the sensitive apex. Echoes of the intense pleasure reverberate in the nerve endings of her core, and he presses against her rising hips with a moan.

He can feel threads of chakra along the tattooed markings, even as he cups and suckles one full breast while running a hand down her side. She shoves the vest off of his shoulders and pulls the shirt over his head. He leans over her so she can work his pants over his hips, while he rubs the pad of his thumb over the utilitarian cotton of her underwear before slipping it beneath to stroke her slick heat. He hears her breath catch on a hiss and he only has a moment to smirk before she yanks him down to her and kisses him fiercely. He feels her fingers close on the length of him and he instinctively knows that this particular hunger is something neither of them suspected lurked in their beings or that they were even still capable of feeling.

He groans as her thumb traces over the tip and then traces the path down and up again in an excruciatingly deliberate motion. She gasps at the feel of strong fingers plunging into her warmth, and the calculated and coordinated rotation of his thumb that threatens to shake her painstakingly maintained self-control to nothing.

She isn't certain quite when or how he removed what little remained of her clothing, but later inspection will reveal the use of a very sharp object.

He pulls her hips toward him, his body moving without conscious intervention.

A moment of clarity – of caution – and he pauses to take in her naked and sprawling beauty.

It was a sight he had never anticipated, and while he sure as hell appreciates it, he hesitates.

"Are you-" is as far as he gets. He meets her eyes in understanding and kisses the palm pressed to his lips.

Instead of replying, she pulls herself to sitting, hair tumbling from the quickly crafted bun, legs wrapping around his middle and arms around his neck. He wraps his arms around her back and for a moment they simply stay suspended in time. Through some mutually intelligible and no doubt infinitesimal signal, he lifts her by her hips and buries himself with in her.

The sensation of her enveloping warmth – her full breasts rubbing against his chest, her long hair sweeping over the hands that cup her bottom and pull her onto him again and again – it takes his breath away. He pitches them forward and once her back is on the mattress, the tone changes. Insistent. Driving. Primal. Devouring. She writhes beneath him, and he doesn't stop until he feels her arch against him and convulse around him. His release comes with hers, and light explodes behind his eyelids and something unclenches in his chest.

They collapse in a tangle of sheets and sweat and naked limbs. There is no more room for regret in either of their lives, and somehow they both know that is not where this will end.

Stranger still, they also both know that this – whatever it is fated to become - it isn't over.

He holds her to himself, wondering how something that should be weighing on him found him feeling lighter.

She looks up at him and he wonders if there are right words to say – because if there are, he certainly doesn't know them.

Instead, she speaks for the first time since they kissed, and it is exactly the right thing to say.

"Sleep."

He drops a kiss to her temple, and then her shoulder, and they both surrender to the unknown without question, in the comfort of the other's embrace, and the kindness of a deep and dreamless sleep.

* * *

><p><em>Next Chapter: Unfinished<em>


	13. XIII: Unfinished

_A/N: I keep hoping I'll wake up and find out that I indeed own Naruto. So far, no dice._

_Minor citrus. _

* * *

><p><strong>Kunoichi<br>XIII. Unfinished**

* * *

><p>He knows when she leaves the bed.<p>

She seals everything back in her scrolls and dresses in uniform and then she is gone.

He showers and dresses and goes directly to the memorial.

She is just leaving.

Despite the fact that they shared a night of intimacy – several times over – there is nothing in either of their faces.

She bows her greeting. "Hokage-sama."

"Captain," he nods.

They pass as ships in the night.

But his being is lighter.

And there is still someone behind her eyes.

Her mission lasts for two weeks.

She checks in first with the medics. Sakura sees her right away, and gives her the all clear.

Tenten prepares to leave as Sakura signs off on her papers.

"Here," she says gruffly, handing her a scroll. "A midwife told me that this will help."

Sakura unrolls the scroll and sees several very rare herbs and ingredients sealed into the scroll and a recipe for several teas.

"These look like the Hyūga recipes," she murmurs as she skims the contents.

"Probably," she shrugs. "She told me that they learned it from a ghost-eyed midwife a long time ago. She came to that region to harvest the rare herbs and a certain kind of tree bark."

Sakura nods. "Hinata has been researching this for me," she says. "She said that a couple of the ingredients were hard to come by – this is a huge help."

"Just a twist of luck," Tenten shrugs. "No need to mention where it came from."

Sakura mutely hands her the release form. The words are so soft, she isn't sure she hears them.

"How is she?"

Sakura looks up at the dark-haired woman, who is busying herself putting her report and clearance papers in the pouch at her waist.

"Better," Sakura allows. "Her body will heal in a few months; everything else takes time. But," she smiles gently, "she has us – all of us – looking out for her." Sakura studies Tenten carefully. "I think we can get through anything if we stick together."

Tenten flicks a look up at her, and they lock eyes.

"It is good to have comrades we can trust," Sakura adds calmly.

Tenten gives a small nod. "Hai."

Sakura watches her slide her ANBU mask back on, but sees a glimpse of her old friend behind the eyes so long empty. In a moment she is gone, and Sakura looks to the scroll in her hand. "We are looking out for you, too," she adds softly. "As much as you will let us."

When she returns to drop off her mission report and her medical release in the Hokage's office, Sai is waiting there for her. He thanks her for both him and Ino. She doesn't mention what she just gave Sakura, she just gives him a curt nod. Of all people, Sai understands emotional disconnect. She leaves directly.

He continues his conversation with Kakashi addressing his concerns for the weapons mistress that is being called the Konoha Dragon in some circles. Before he leaves, he tells the Hokage that he wishes to be among the first called if she needs anything from a mission partner to backup.

Kakashi assures Sai he shall keep that in mind.

Sakura stops by later that afternoon and tells him what Tenten was up to.

"She did that for Ino," he muses.

"I'm worried about her, Sensei," she says, biting her lower lip. "She has logged more mission hours than almost any other ANBU in the last two years. She is gone from Konoha for long stretches of time, and usually on solo missions. Of the ANBU I see, she has been in Konoha the least."

Those familiar jade eyes scour Kakashi's and he can see the kind, caring girl in the face of the highly competent and respected woman she is. "I am worried that she doesn't know she has anyone – that she has us."

She looks down at her hands. "I think she doesn't think she has anyone. That she lost everything when Neji died." She flicks a look up at Kakashi and half smiles at herself. "I know that might sound hypocritical coming from me; we both know how I took Sasuke's time away. But I could at least hope that he'd come back, and he has. But for her…" she trailed off, palms up in a helpless gesture. "What does she have?"

Kakashi watched her keep sympathetic tears at bay. "I…I just don't want her to think she is alone," she finally sighed.

"None of us do," he finally spoke up.

"Will…will you speak with her?" Sakura asked hopefully. "She might listen to you."

"I will do what I can," he allowed.

She takes her leave of the Hokage and returns to her work.

There is nothing in their earlier interactions to warn him, but he is not surprised to find her in his home, staring into the fire.

He crosses to her and holds out a hand. She looks up at him and raises both eyebrows, but doesn't move. He pulls the mask down and she trails eyes over him with a wistful smile.

They share a meal and minimal conversation, and comfortable silences.

When they are done and the dishes are put away, they sit in front of the fire.

It might be an eternity or it might be no time at all before their fingers wind together, and she leans back against his chest.

She glances over her shoulder and he drops a kiss to her temple.

Neither knows who initiated it, but the dawn finds the fire low, and their bodies entwined in his bed.

That night, he notices.

He is trailing a finger down her neck and to her heart when he sees the embellishments.

There is more to the green tattoo than before. He touches it tentatively and raises his eyebrows to her.

"It isn't finished," she says simply.

He shrugs and holds her while they sleep.

Meanwhile, Sakura finishes her late shift at the hospital, and enters her home with a curious weight about her.

When she sees him waiting for her, though – back early from a mission, she is suddenly awash in gratitude and relief, and a hundred other things. She drops her belongings and rushes to him, flinging her arms around his neck.

He is surprised at this particular greeting from his wife – he hasn't been gone very long at all this time. He feels the damp of tears at his neck, and alarm spikes through him.

He holds her tightly, and murmurs into her hair. "Sakura…? Sakura, what's wrong."

"Nothing," she gasps against his throat before looking up at him with eyes wide and glistening with the sheen of tears. "Absolutely nothing."

Puzzled, Sasuke begins to ask for an explanation, but is halted by the fierce kiss and strong arms that wrap around him. When she buries her head on his shoulder, her face in the crook of his neck, he asks her again.

"What is wrong?"

She pulls back and looks up at him with eyes full of something hauntingly familiar. She traces gentle fingers across his cheek to cup his face.

"Never leave," she whispers, the tears still lingering in her voice. "Never again, I can't-"

She forgets, sometimes, how fast he is.

Before she can blink, he has captured her lips into a kiss absolutely meant to banish the words from her mouth – possibly from her vocabulary altogether. "Baka," his voice is low and rumbles against her. "I told you before. I'll always come back to you."

"I know," she rests her head on his chest. "I just…" she sighed. "I just can't lose you again."

"Hn," he scoffs. "I told you. You won't."

She smiles wryly at his gruff assurance.

She looks up, something finally registering.

"…When did we get to the bedroom?"

He shrugs one shoulder, almost bored. "About half a second after you started being annoying."

She narrows her eyes at him. "Annoying," she repeats flatly.

"Yes," he sighs, but reaches out to tuck a stray piece of hair behind her ear. "Annoying. You clearly weren't listening."

She watches him warily. "When?"

"When I told you that no matter how often I am called away, I shall return. I am home for good." His smile is slow and wickedly predatory. "Looks like you need more convincing."

The warmth blooming in her chest shoots straight south. "Looks like," she agrees.

"Hn."

Even if she has another objection, she doesn't time to voice it. Sasuke is too busy stating his case.

He is very persuasive.

Multiple times.

He is also very thorough.

Uchiha Sakura wakes in the warmth of his arms the next morning and kisses him gently.

She thinks that perhaps this time, she will assure him that she isn't going anywhere, either.

When Sasuke finds himself pinned under her, he looks up and arches a challenging brow at her mischievous and triumphant smirk. His mind automatically races with strategies and counter measures, until she straddles his hips and envelops him in her slick heat. As always, she overrides his every cognitive process, and he finds he has only one simple and coherent thought.

"_It is good to be home._"

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><p><em>Thanks for reading friends. I'd love to hear from you, if you have a moment to spare. Happy New Year!<em>

_-GL_


	14. XIV: What it Isn't

_A/N: Kishimoto brought Naruto to the party. I'm more of a 'show up with an appetizer or dessert' kind of person._

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><p><strong>Kunoichi<br>XIV. What it Isn't**

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><p>It is a perfectly ordinary spring day the first time Might Gai does the math.<p>

Several days prior, Tenten came to tell him she will be gone for most of the month, but that she would stop back in Konoha for two days as she traveled back from Suna to head northeast to Kumo. She promised to visit then.

He is holding the message she sent to let him know she made it to Suna safely.

It is then that he realizes that in the three-and-a-half years since the end of the war, she has not spent more than three weeks in Konoha at a time. The first year she was in ANBU, he had seen her only a handful of times, and she had spent at least six consecutive months away from the village.

He frowns.

The political climate has cooled considerably; there is no reason for her to be gone so often and for so long.

He has heard about several of her more dangerous missions – or perhaps, more accurately - he has heard about her time at the hospital. By the time he hears, though, she has been released for several days, and is normally in a completely different village and not slated to return for weeks.

Spring segues into summer as Gai watches her with increasing worry.

He finally goes to the council.

He makes a plea to the Hokage, Tsunade, Hiashi, Shibi, Chōza, Kurenai, Shikamaru, and a few of the others that help in the running of the village.

"I am asking as a Jōnin instructor, a concerned fellow shinobi of Konoha, and as your comrade," he says, his normal exuberant demeanor tempered by the seriousness of this request. "We've lost so many to the war. Don't let her be a casualty."

"She requests these missions, Gai," Tsunade says in a firm but not unsympathetic voice.

"And it makes sense to grant her requests," Shibi intones. "Why you may ask? It is because in the wake of Konoha's after-war prosperity, many of our citizens have gotten married and started families. As it is, there are few that can take the jobs she takes, and even fewer who are willing. She herself says she has no family."

"Perhaps not blood related," Gai interjects hotly, "but she is family to Lee and I! The Rookie Nine look out for her as well," he met their eyes. "Your children," He looked to Hiashi, Chōza, and Shibi. "Your students," He said to Kurenai. "Your comrades," he finished, gazing at Shikamaru. "They are her family."

"We know," Kurenai says gently. "She often volunteers to go in the place of her comrades."

"Demands is more like it," Shikamaru snorts. "It's troublesome, but it can't be helped. As an ANBU Captain, she can check the assignments daily. If it appears one of our friends are being considered for anything she feels is too dangerous or requires an extended leave from the village, she takes it."

"Surely there is something available in Konoha, if only for a couple of months," he urges. "She is the leading weapons specialist in the Land of Fire – perhaps something at the academy? Or working with Genma on bodyguard and protection details?"

Hiashi wants to help. He doesn't know precisely what her relationship was to his nephew, but he knows his death affected her greatly, and his daughter worries for her.

"We have tried," he offers. "Genma and I intended to make her one of the liaisons to my clan, but she declined."

"Bodyguard to the Hokage then," Gai's exasperation is almost comical. "Kakashi has several good will missions in the near future, ne? Let her switch over now, in preparation for those missions."

Chōza gives a good humored snort of laughter. "In this time of peace the Hokage hardly needs more protection – and Kakashi even less than that."

"Peace or not, protocol does dictate the Hokage should travel with bodyguards, and it would make sense to let those assigned become accustomed to the assignment." Tsunade allows. "It would be reasonable to have an ANBU captain head up the security. It might not be a bad idea to assign her in this capacity and assess if she is a good fit for the assignment." Kakashi hears the implied 'and for us to make sure she is stable enough.' "Do you have an opinion on this, Kakashi?"

He does, in fact, have an opinion.

Personal developments aside, she would be perfect for the job and it is a way to keep her closer to the village for her own safety and Gai's peace of mind.

However.

He isn't stupid enough to be the one to suggest much less pass that measure.

He will take responsibility for all of his decisions as Hokage, but he absolutely will not be the one that decides to keep Tenten in Konoha via assignment to his personal guard.

"He doesn't have his Sharingan anymore," Gai blurts out, earning a raised eyebrow from Tsunade. "He… he could use the extra guard."

Tsunade taps a bright red nail on the table. "I suppose it could be justified."

"I believe I should recuse myself from this vote," Kakashi says, spreading his hands.

The others nod, and Tsunade mutters 'coward' just loud enough for him to hear.

He knows she is teasing. He also knows that despite all appearances, she is just as concerned as Gai, and has discussed this with him several times, ex-Hokage to Hokage.

The council votes unanimously, much to Gai's delight. Tenten is brought in and informed of her assignment. She bows and accepts her duties to Konoha, with the understanding that at least once a month she has to report outside of Konoha for an ongoing ANBU assignment. It is noted, and she is told this mission will begin in one week. She bows again and leaves immediately for a five day mission.

He doesn't see her before she goes, but he does find her note on his pillow.

_'I understand.'_

When she returns, she makes a point to visit her old sensei, who is thrilled that she will be in Konoha more regularly.

She doesn't return his enthusiastic grin, but she allows him the comfort he seems to glean from the situation.

She spends an hour at the memorial under clear sky, keeping silent as the stars hover brightly.

She doesn't expect him, but when he is suddenly by her side at the memorial, she makes no move to leave.

In the silence, she feels his strong fingers weave into her own, and she is grateful for the anchor. She knows why he is here; he is making sure she isn't alone.

She knows what this isn't.

It isn't love.

Not quite.

It is loyalty, and it is honesty and it is reciprocity without expectation.

But it isn't love.

Her heart is too far gone, and his life too practical.

But when he holds his hand out to her or she holds her hand out to him – he can't remember which – and they return to his bed, or sit in front of the fire, or just stay in each other's company, everything they are or aren't or this is or isn't doesn't matter.

They just 'are.'

And that is enough.

The days slide into one another.

He watches as slowly the person behind the glassy eyes comes into focus, and she watches as the weight begins to lift from his shoulders. Neither can be accused of being happy per se, but they are both lighter.

There are many things this isn't.

And it isn't love.

But there is something there.

It is quiet, but it is present.

It lingers in the space between heartbeats and flits just on the periphery of her conscious self.

It is there in the gradual easing of the weights in his chest.

It is there when she runs into Ino, and sees that she is laughing again.

It is there when Naruto barges into his office to tell him that Sasuke has made real progress and that far fewer people tried to kill him on sight during their last mission.

It is there when Sakura clears her for her next mission, and is their conversation is minimal but comfortable.

It is there when he sees Kurenai and Mirai leaving the memorial, and the little girl turns to wave bye-bye to her father.

It is there the first time she smiles to herself at Gai and Lee's antics in what has probably been years.

(It is there when she leaves, and Gai weeps for joy at a small but tremendous victory.)

It is there when she, Kakashi, Shikamaru, Genma, Yamato, and Tsunade pour over maps, scrolls, intelligence reports, treaties, and other documents as they discuss the upcoming diplomatic missions in Konoha and abroad, and begin to iron out the logistics.

It is there when Kakashi watches her during the meeting and realizes that she is actively discussing what their roles will be a year from now during the Kage Summit.

It is there when she realizes she hasn't planned anything so far ahead, never looking beyond the end of her missions.

It is there when the two of them sit in his office long after everyone is gone, and they are still discussing the journey to Suna, and the short trip she, Shikamaru, and Yamato shall take ahead of time to familiarize themselves with the area.

(It is there when they only half jokingly decide this has to be kept a secret from Naruto, or he will no doubt demand to tag along.)

It is there, but she can't quite place what it is– like seeing an oh-so-familiar face and being unable to dredge up the name from memory.

The realization comes late one night when his arms are wound about her and her breathing is stilling against the crook of his neck.

The gradual easing of the weight about them both.

The strange almost aching sensation in her chest.

The light she sees flickering in her own eyes, and reflected in his.

She knows what it is.

It isn't Love.

It is Hope.

And it is filling her heart.

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><p><em>AN: Next Chapter - Suspicion_


	15. XV: Suspicion

_Kishimoto created Naruto. _

_I can do amazing things with glitter._

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><p><strong>Kunoichi<strong>  
><strong>XV. Suspicion<strong>

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><p>He agrees to meet with her to train.<p>

It is a neutral training ground, far removed from the village proper.

They spar until their bodies are slicked with sweat, their shirts are discarded, and they both agree that at least they aren't in Suna.

She swipes at her face, neck, and chest with a towel, tossing him one from her scrolls.

He notices the tattoo over her heart has become more elaborate.

She tells him the same thing she told Kakashi.

"It isn't finished."

He nods and they agree to meet tomorrow.

He does not go home.

He needs to speak with someone.

It only takes him a few moments to figure out where Naruto is.

He is training with Konohamaru while Hinata is sitting in the shade, watching.

She greets him and he leans against the tree.

"I need you to come to a training session tomorrow," he says, his eyes on the dobe and the chibi-dobe.

Hinata has learned that Sasuke rarely solicits a favor, and it is never in the form of a question.

"Of course," she nods, keeping a careful eye on him. "How can I be of help?"

He mulls his reply. It is something he is sure an Uchiha has never said to a Hyūga.

"I need your eyes."

The next day she eyes the quiet, raven-haired woman and looks back to him with question.

He excuses it to her by explaining they will train with channeling chakra through the tattoos, and various other exercises.

"Hinata will monitor us both from a distance," he says in a bored voice. "If we do the exchange properly, she will be able to see it."

She nods and they begin.

Hinata says little but sees much. She knows why Tenten is hurting and how deeply.

She is only just beginning to understand what that truly means.

She gives Sasuke a minute nod, and he ends the training. Tenten predictably leaves with all due haste, and they are quite alone.

Sasuke raises his eyebrows to her.

"Well?"

Hinata chews thoughtfully on her bottom lip.

"Easier to show you," she offers, and willingly submits to the mild genjutsu.

She shows Sasuke what she saw, and they discuss what they already know.

"It doesn't make sense," he murmurs, "Unless…"

He glances at her, and she holds his look in return.

"I need to do some research. This stays between us?"

"Absolutely," she assures him.

He breaks the genjutsu and they part ways, each to investigate their own suspicions.

They meet several more times before she leaves for her dry run to Suna, and again when she returns.

He has mulled over what he sees in her training, and he is starting to connect the dots.

He and Hinata discuss it only in his genjutsu, and never to anyone else – not even their spouses.

They are both the quiet half of their respective marriages, but their loyalties run no less deep, and their eyes miss next to nothing.

Since his own return to Konoha, he has come to appreciate and respect the wife of his best friend. He harbors no love for her clan, mind you, but that is easily overlooked.

Over the last few months, Tenten has been in the village and assigned to Kakashi. They have been training more, and she has even spoken to Hinata on occasion. The quiet woman does not press her, though, and Sasuke has seen her gradually become less wary, if not less guarded around them both.

Of course, if she even suspected what they were up to, she might not feel the same way.

It started after Hinata watched a training session with Team Seven. She had spoken with him then, and at first he had discounted her theory as impossible.

A week later he downgraded it to 'improbable.'

But as of three days ago, he has determined that might not be the case.

He knows who he needs to speak with, and he knows he can't go alone.

The trouble is, he needs Hinata to come, and Naruto _not_ to come.

In the end, Hinata is the one that gently convinces him to cooperate.

The sun is still a couple of hours from rising.

He looks down at his wife, sleeping snugly in their bed.

She already knows that when she wakes he will be on a mission – it is not uncommon in their life.

He kisses her goodbye in her sleep and seals the house before going to collect his partner for this mission.

Naruto is waiting for him outside of the home he and Hinata share.

His blue eyes are far more serious than normal, and the line of his jaw is unyielding.

"I still don't like this, teme," he says, his voice low.

"Hn."

Naruto knows that is 'Sasuke' for '_I know_,' '_Neither do I_,' '_Too bad_,' and '_I'll look after her_.'

"Watch over her," he says with no trace of his characteristic lightheartedness. "I'll look in on Sakura-chan."

Sasuke nods. One of the reasons he can leave the village so frequently is that he knows Sakura is well protected. Naruto will protect her with his life, as Sasuke will protect Hinata.

He is almost certain it won't come to that, but it never pays for a shinobi to be certain about anything.

Hinata exits their home silently, and is soon by Naruto's side. He cups her face in his hands and kisses her tenderly.

"Remember," she reminds him when he gets that 'I am going to follow you' look about him. "Kakashi is in Suna, and several of our stronger nin are out of the village. Konoha needs you to stay."

"Fine," he mutters, "I'll stay here."

"Promise me, Naruto-kun," steel laces her still gentle tone, and he winces. They both know what a promise means to him. To them both.

"I promise," he sighs.

"Thank you," she says as he holds her tightly and kisses her brow.

"If I don't hear from you in two days," he tells her, "I'm coming after you – promise or no promise. And I'm bringing Sakura." They all know that is an indirect threat to Sasuke.

Her smile is sweet. "You will hear from me, Naruto-kun."

He gives her one last lingering kiss and tells Sasuke he'll kill him if anything happens to his wife.

Sasuke, of course replies: "Hn."

They are silent on their way to the main gates.

It was a last minute decision to add two to the party, but both Sasuke and Hinata agree it is a prudent course of action.

Hinata greets Shino warmly, and Sasuke nods to Sai.

Seconds later, what is possibly the least talkative quartet of shinobi to ever leave Konoha vanishes silently into what remains of the night.

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><p>Next Chapter: tbd<p> 


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